Waiting For A Star To Fall (Autumn Brody Book 2) (25 page)

Giving up, they bid her farewell and headed outside, shooting a text to Kevin. At Veronica's suggestion, they'd decided that they would meet with Zoe as a group, taking Kevin along for additional security. Pocketing his phone, Andrew inhaled a deep breath and held it. Autumn knew the feeling: she'd spent a great deal of the last year on mindful breathing to steady her nerves.

"Thank you."

He turned towards her, confused. "For what?"

Autumn hesitated briefly, trying to make sense of the flood of images rushing to mind. "For coming today, even if you didn't know if it would help. For being there after Kearney, when I would scream, or hear him... For never giving up on me, even when I couldn't let anyone touch me for a month, or the times in the hospital where you'd stay awake so I'd feel safe to sleep... I'm lucky. I know I am. And I know I shove you away sometimes, but I'm trying..."

"It's okay." He pulled her against him, holding her as tightly as he could manage without causing her pain. "I get it. I do. There are times I'm petrified, you know? At being so close to you, knowing that life can change in a moment. But it's worth it. It's always worth it to fight for what you want. And what Audrina said? It's true. You're not a burden, not to me. You didn't ask for shitty things to happen to you."

"Neither did you," was her muffled reply.

"So we survived, and we keep surviving it. Together. The challenges just make life more interesting, right?"

"We're no good at being bored." Pulling away, she reached up to touch his cheek.
Contact
. Grounding herself. "I'm so happy I get to not be bored with you."

"I couldn't agree more..." The honk of a car shattered their reverie, the two of them nodding to their waiting friends as they approached their waiting ride. "They're playing our song," Andrew quipped.

Nestled against Andrew in the back seat, she continued to turn the stone in her palm, memorizing the feel of it beneath the pads of her fingers. There was a strange comfort in the ridges and imperfections, a symmetry with her mind.
I'm complex, with many sides, many flaws
. One turn for each layer of fear and dreamy optimism; one rotation for each of the people who mattered most to her. It was perfect: dark and opaque. It was how she needed her mind to be when unwanted visitors came calling.

"We're here," Andrew murmured in her ear.

Startled, Autumn shoved the stone into the pocket of her cut-offs.
Where did the time go?
Audrina's home had to be a good twenty-minute drive from the O'Rourke. Chalking it up to the lingering drowsiness of her medication, she slipped out of the car and followed Veronica around back.

"On Mondays, no one's here unless we have a scheduled rehearsal," Veronica explained, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. "But we all have a key, just in case we need to stop by."

"Let me go first," Kevin insisted, holding out his hand.

Begrudgingly, Veronica handed over her keys. "I'm pretty sure nothing's going to happen to me if I shove a piece of metal into a lock."

Kevin swiftly thumbed to the corresponding key and unlocking the stage door. "Indulge me."

Veronica’s mouth fell open, as if she were about to flirt, but Evan’s anticipatory exasperation silenced her. She settled for quietly rolling her eyes at her bodyguard’s demand.

The moment they stepped inside, Autumn's heart began to pound. There was an iciness in the air, beyond the typical blast of summer air conditioning in the city. Taking a breath stung and left a bitter taste on her tongue. Glancing around, she realized that her friends seemed unaffected.

This could just be anxiety
, she cautioned herself.
It's happened before. Just stay calm
.

All the same, she stuck close to both Andrew and Kevin, the latter of whom had quickly scanned both corridors and found them satisfactory.

"Zoe!" Veronica called out. "We're here!"

No reply. Not even a wayward sound of activity—footsteps, banging, a machine of any kind.

"She said three, right?" Evan asked.

"Mmhmm. She works with her iPod on a lot, so she probably can't hear us. Let's try her office," Veronica suggested.

Overhead, a light flickered. Autumn immediately recoiled, studying it for further disturbance. Mockingly, it gleamed bright, eco-friendly white.
A power surge, you idiot
! she admonished herself.
This damn theatre is old
.

The group proceeded down the western corridor, their footsteps flooding the hall in reverberated staccato. Despite the cavalier joking and chatter of the group, Autumn couldn't shake the sense that something awful lurking around the corner. Predatory, even. In her mind's eye, the gleam of razor teeth reflected in the shadows.

Danger
.
Turn back
.

Zoe wasn't in her office, but it was clear she'd been at work: a light sweater had been cast off onto her desk, and her purse was hanging off the handle of the door. Financial papers were strewn near the computer. Its screen was merely locked, meaning someone had signed in today.

"Something's wrong," Autumn whispered.

"Agreed," Evan echoed. "She arranged this meeting."

Veronica shrugged. "Zoe can be a little scatterbrained at times.”

Kevin glanced out into the hall, his body rigid. "Where else would she be?"

"Um, let's see... She would do a prop check, run sales figures..." She gestured to the desk before them. "Hmm... Costume check! If she found anything in need of a quick fix, she'd probably pop in her ear buds and sew it herself. She's kinda awesome that way."

"Okay, where's the costume room?" Andrew asked.

"It's just down the hallway on the—"

BANG!

A flurry of motion: Evan pulled Veronica closer; Autumn cowered against the office wall; and Kevin immediately blocked the doorway, holding up a hand in a gesture for silence. Andrew's hands cupped her face, forcing Autumn to look him in the eye.

Breathe
, he mouthed. Wasn't she breathing? A wave of vertigo struck and she complied, ordering herself to take small, careful sips of thin air.

"Zoe! Hey babe, where are you?"

"Parsons?" Veronica whispered. At Kevin's inquiring look, she added, "Asshole co-star, remember?”

Kevin led the charge into the corridor, the muscular guard slamming into Zach, who was texting and walking. The actor spluttered angrily before sizing up his competition and deciding he would easily lose in a round of frat-boy fisticuffs.

"Who are you?" Parsons demanded. "This is a restricted area."

Veronica stepped around the corner. "My bodyguard. What brings you here on a Monday? I've never known you to work a moment longer than you have to."

"Not that it's your business, but Zoe and I have dinner plans. Thought I'd swing by early and see if I could help her wrap things up."

"By wrap, he means condoms," Andrew snarked.

Zach smirked. "Hey, I'm a firm believer in 'No Glove, No Love'. I'm not looking for any permanent reminders of my activities, be they screaming infants or recurring sores."

Evan rolled his eyes. "Should we try the costume department now?"

"Definitely. Your plans are going to have to wait. Zoe and I have a scheduled meeting. No skeezy men allowed," Veronica added bitterly. "It's this way."

Veronica and Evan took up the front of the group, Autumn falling in line with Kevin at the rear. Desperately, she grasped at paper-thin straws, struggling to explain how the noise of six people could go unnoticed by a woman alone in a theatre with known security issues.
She's stepped out for lunch—no, her purse is here. Scratch a coffee run. Bathroom? Maybe...
No matter how she added it up, something felt
off
.

The lights being out in the costume department only added to her growing sense of dread. Without windows, the room was pitch-black and seemingly cavernous, the minimal hallway lighting a sickly-yellow drop in a bucket of oil. 

"Switch isn't working," Veronica noted nervously. "Zoe? You okay?"

A flashlight cut a swath through the darkness, its beam tracking left and right.
Kevin
. "Evan, get Veronica back to the office and lock the door. Stay there until I tell you."

"Kevin?"

"Precaution, Veronica. Please go," he urged. "You too, Parsons."

"You're not the boss of me!" Zach snapped.

It was all the invitation Evan needed: with one dizzying motion, he'd yanked Zach's arm behind his back into a contortionist's nightmare, driving his face against the wall.

"When a security professional who has served his country speaks, you listen."

With a shove, Evan herded Parsons away, Veronica in close pursuit. Satisfied with their compliance, Kevin returned his attention to the costume office, seemingly gauging multiple courses of action and discarding them with a faint shake of his head.

“For the record, you really should be following them.”

Autumn shrugged, jostling Kevin with her elbow. They’d developed an understanding in the last few days.

“Clearly, you know it’s a waste of breath.”

“All the same, your father is scary. At least I can say I tried.”

From the corner of her eye, Autumn spotted a glimmer of light. It was faint—a streak across the inky black room—but it was enough for her.
I have to know
. Andrew tugged her arm, insisting they join their friends, but she pulled away roughly.

"There's something here..."

In a far corner, Kevin's beam of light picked up a tabletop lamp. "Let's try that. Rule out a fuse."

Autumn pressed herself close to the wall, using touch to guide herself further into the room. The walls were the painted brick of elementary school, pockmarked with wear and slippery with old, toxic paint. From what she could see by flashlight, the wooden floors were scuffed and worn, lazily refinished to extend their lifespan. Across from her, a series of dresses wafted on a rolling clothing rack. They reminded her of paper dolls from childhood draped along clothesline classroom displays. 

"
Autumn!
"

A hissing. Snake in the grass. Autumn's eyes searched the room wildly as her hand dove into her pocket in search of the tourmaline stone.
Careful
. The air grew colder and she struggled to breathe, each inhalation a knife twisting inside of her. A thousand shards of glass peppered her lungs. A shift in the air around her betrayed an unseen entity that hovered far too close for comfort.

A flickering, no more than three feet away, danced before her as someone
laughed
. Autumn stumbled backwards, screaming as a hand grabbed near her arm. It tugged viciously at her purse strap, reeling her in. Bait on a hook.

"Autumn!"

She tumbled to the ground, immediately cursing herself for being so reckless. Something within seemed to recoil like a spring and her left flank was on fire. Her palms swiped frantically, shoving away her assailant and tearing loose of the handbag's snare. She was free of the hand, free of its clammy grip. But for how long?

A light hummed to life in the corner as Andrew rushed to her side, pulling her close. "What? What happened?"

She turned around, seeking confrontation and finding only a shiny arm, motionless and tangled in the purse straps near her feet. Glancing upwards, she felt her cheeks burn.

"There was a... mannequin," she mumbled sheepishly. "The hand, it caught my arm..."

The offending dummy loomed over her, its featureless face mocking her while its attached hand seemingly waved hello.
But the voice was real
, she told herself.
Something is here. Someone
.

"Both of you stay where you are," Kevin suddenly ordered them.

Wrapping an arm around her waist, Andrew pulled her to her feet and held her still. Autumn's eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, quickly understanding Kevin's command.
Blood
. Delicate, rusty droplets dotted the floor five feet away, reflecting off the shards of what was once a large fluorescent bulb. The acidic tang on her tongue suddenly had a name. 

"Zoe," she whispered knowingly.

"
My purse
." It was a desperate plea, gasped from the ether. "
Don't let them have it first
."

Kevin took several steps around looming equipment cabinet, freezing in his tracks. "We need to call the police. Right now."

I have to know. I have to be sure.
Ignoring the fire in her side, Autumn stumbled forwards, ripping from Andrew's grasp to join Kevin. Her stomach lurched as she understood the guard's ominous tone.

Crumpled on the ground in a bloodied heap lay the body of a woman she only knew to be Zoe Ferguson from the right side of her face. The left had been crushed and disfigured so violently as to be unidentifiable.
As if he wanted to erase her very existence
, Autumn thought angrily. One awkwardly-bent hand seemed to point at the blood-soaked picture frame near Kevin's feet. A replica of Van Gogh's
The Starry Night
, to be exact.